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  1. Sandy
    The fireworks were cancelled over the election that night
    Forcin’ a light into all those stoned-out faces left stranded
    By the force of this guy.

    The media circus was full of pundits and lawyers so fast
    They thought were so sharp,
    And the Wizards doubled down on Pinhead Way.

    On the chalkboard way past dark
    And the boys from the FBI danced with their shirts open like Latin lovers — all of them so sure
    Of electin’ all them silly New York girls . . .

    Sandy
    The aroma is rising behind us . . .
    NPR lights our caravan, like, forever
    Gov me tonight, four-eyes, may never see you again,
    Hey, Sandy, girl . . .

    Now the greasers {[Hey! Don’t blame me! Uber-leftist Springsteen wrote this!]}
    That Trump defeats
    Or get busted for trying to slip in on a beach at night

    Them boys in their spiked high heels . . .
    Uh
    Sandy
    Zimmerman’s skin’s so white
    And, me, I just got tired of their haranguing that dusty arcane stuff
    Bangin’ their pleasure machines.

    Chasin’ the factory girls underneath the boardwalk where they promise
    To unsnap their jeans:
    And you remember the Tell-Tale Heart, the mouthy beyotch hag
    That got on it Election Night when her sh*t got caught
    And that Joe B. kept me spinning, I didn’t think I’d ever get off!

    Oh-h-h-h
    Sandy
    NPR lights our carnival, like it ought to.
    Runnin’ down the beach at night to POTUS’s laughter!
    Well he ain’t my POTUS no more, Sandy.

    — Springs Teens

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